3.5 stars.

I kid you not, this is basically the inciting incident in this book.



Sabatini has been billed as a modern Dumas, and while I see the inspiration of his work in this, it just didn't hold a candle to how enjoyable Dumas' work is. The parsing of sentences is awkward in just enough places that I kept tripping up over it (and there are typos in this copy to boot, sadly). There is also an EXTREME lack of adventuring--it takes place solely in France and there's never really any cliffhanger moments. This is not at all to say it's a bad book, however; it's plenty interesting and is very well-plotted and was easy to follow, fortunately. But it just never was captivating enough to make me wish I was reading it every free moment I had (part of the reason why it took me a month to finish it).

Andre-Louis is a relatively boring character--if it weren't for his iconic level Stoic Snark throughout, I would have been quite bored, but at least there were lines that lead to LOL moments. Aline was an absolute GEM and deserved way more page time. You go gurl!

The whole Scaramouche jest isn't even RELEVANT, when it comes down to it, apart form existing solely to create a Clever Metaphorical Link for Andre. This part, in the commedia troupe, was the part I was looking forward to the most, since I love that sort of stuff, but it was, much like the first section of the book, quite boring. The last section, with Andre's stint in the legislature, was surprisingly the best of the whole book, and was the most in the vein of Dumas' and other swashbuckling goodness.

The overall vibe I got throughout the first two thirds of the story was Scarlet Pimpernel with a dash of Tale of Two Cities mixed in. Both of these books were relatively unimpressive for me when I read them, so I was unimpressed throughout much of this book too. There were some times when it almost felt like a direct rip-off of Pimpernel.

I feel like watching the movie of this would be much more enjoyable. I have never seen either adaptation of it, but knowing movies from the time, I was able to picture some of the scenes as a movie, and they worked incredibly well. Hopefully TCM will be showing one of the adaptations soon so I can see if that's true! (Edit: Yes, the movie based on the book is incredibly accurate and seemingly just as long! [It is a silent, so those tend to feel three years long.] Highly recommend watching if you like old/silent movies!)

Overall, it was a great book, but it just didn't grab me and swoop me into rollicking adventures and suspense as I'd hoped.

In heavy times, a little French Revolution swashbuckling novel seemed the ticket. It is no Dumas, but it is charming all the same.

4.5 Stars.

As usual, my relationship with Scaramouche takes a rather circular route. I first heard of it from a friend who had taken up fencing and had picked up the 1952 film with Stewart Granger which has one of the longest duels in movie history on screen. I brushed the recommendation aside until I went through my Mel Ferrer stage (which I reached via Audrey Hepburn and War & Peace). Then I gladly picked up the film and found it ambitious but slightly miscast (except in the vivid Eleanor Parker who, in my opinion, never quite manages to remain on the screen).

Then, in my Errol Flynn days, I read Captain Blood and loved how the adventure leaped off the page. Sabatini being a bit of a different style than my current literary diet, I determined to try another swashbuckler and dove in.

He didn't disappoint-- until I realized that Parker's character didn't really exist. But the improvement upon Granger's portrayal made up for it. (I really think Flynn would have been better-- had it been filmed in the 40s). * The sly digs, the puns, and smart remarks were all worthy of a modern action film and make Sabatini someone I would love to revisit.

* Aside-- I really think Granger should have been rethought as a stock character. He had potential but kept getting the wrong roles. Also, if you like Parker, try "Voice of the Turtle" with charming pre-presidential Reagan.

Felt like a school book

3.5/5

"Humanity, monsieur," Philippe replied, "is more ancient than nobility[."]

I've never been one much for adventure stories that ply their trade sans any hint of the fantastical. Dragons, wizards, magical objects, and associated quests? For sure. Some dudebro running around with a mask/cape/sword/gun all for the sake of some blow up doll with a fainting complex, if ever a woman appears at all? Eh. True, I have more than fond memories of [b:The Count of Monte Cristo|7126|The Count of Monte Cristo|Alexandre Dumas|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1611834134l/7126._SY75_.jpg|391568] and fully intend to reread it when the opportunity arises, but while recently going through the works that are most commonly tagged as 'classic' on this site, I noticed how frequently I avoided the works of Barrie, Stevenson (barring his dips into the realm of horror), Cooper, Wells, and Verne. True, one could call the last two science fiction, but they're still neither firmly grounded enough in an extremely relatable reality nor far removed enough in the escapist sense for me to either read them for personal insight or rush to them for a break from the world around me. Even my negligence of the genres of mystery and western can be somewhat traced back to this, as it's all too easy for me to start yawning once one too many high speed dramatics has been flung into the reader's path for the sake of reviving the thread (today's media tends to do the same with sex scenes with similar rates of effectiveness). For all that, I have at least one other work such as this to come in handy when a reading challenge requires something of the adventure variety, and while upon finishing it I'm not in any rush to stock up on all the similarly genre'd works of the authors I've mentioned and then some, if the average piece were more like this, I'd be more interested in the topic in general. Not perfect by far, but it did enough things right in enough areas inherent to narrative construction and literary quality for me to be pleasantly surprised, and I'm glad that I had the presence of mind to keep a copy of this within easy reach on my shelves for the last seven years until the time came for it to prove its usefulness.

The men who sought to make this revolution, the electors—here in Paris as elsewhere—were men of substance, notable bourgeois, wealthy traders. And whilst these, despising the canaille, and envying the privileged, talked largely of equality—by which they meant an ascending equality that should confuse themselves with the gentry—the proletariat perished of want in its kennels.

Having wantonly set fire to their house, they now try to put it out by throwing water on it; and where they fail they put the entire blame on the flames.

Once upon a time, the horror gripping the Anglo reading masses was not the ecofascistic fearmongering of overpopulation and mass immigration of non-aristocrats that can be found as source for many a modern day rendition of that entity known as the zombie, but the French Revolution and all its proletarian portents. In actuality, it was likely moreso the rise of Marxism and associated Bolsheviks in the late 19th to early 20th c., a period somewhat bookended by the publication of Orczy's [b:The Scarlet Pimpernel|136116|The Scarlet Pimpernel|Emmuska Orczy|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1406764899l/136116._SX50_.jpg|750426] in 1905 and this work in 1921. It's been a very long time since I read Orczy's work, but my recent experiences with one of her many 'sequels' to TCP, eighth publishing wise and second narrative chronology wise, makes me think that the difference in her life compared to that of Sabatini's, her noble parents literally fleeing their estate fearing a peasant revolution whilst his worked as opera singers and subsequently teachers, may have something to do with how heavy handed her work was compared to this piece. For Sabatini's Scaramouche is certainly no diehard revolutionary, but he does have a grasp on the realities of a state run by a combination of money, rhetoric, and occasional human sacrifice, and while some of his remarks are excruciatingly ignorant (the whole conspiracy surrounding Marie Antoinette and her 'circle of foreign spies', the bad faith treatment of violence enacted when all 'civil' routes to progress have been forcibly denied), this isn't a piece that pretends that those who could afford to eat in pre-Revolution France were doing anything besides bringing the upheaval upon themselves. Outside of this, the whole instantaneously-learn-a-vital-trade-rinse-repeat that allowed both plot and main character progress as they did got rather tedious after the second or third go around, and the concluding, paradigm shaking revelations (especially with a character who is apparently extremely important in the main character's view but doesn't exist until three quarters of the way through the piece) threw out hints a tad too early for my tastes. So, a take on a very sensationalized and propagandized period of history that could have well been as nauseatingly obtuse and bliovatingly bootlicking as have been so many others, but to its credit, actually had some good thing say, sometimes even in an especially good way. I don't agree at all with Sabatini's estimation that English produces the best stories, but I will give credit to his unpretentious, yet strikingly witty, way with the language.

To refer to his death at all requires courage, to laugh in referring to it requires something else that I will not attempt to qualify.

"It is not my chastity that is in question, but that of M. de La Tour d'Azyr."

This is a book that I indicated interest in reading during my first year on this website, all the way back in 2010. I believe I also had 'Captain Blood' indicated as well, perhaps even to the point of owning a copy, but a particularly brutal session of culling my TBR so that there weren't quite so many unread authors clogging my shelves with their entire bibliography must have done away with that, and while this work went better than expected, I'm in no rush to return that piece to whatever former status it may have had. I am, however more keen than ever on revisiting the aforementioned work by Dumas, and I could even be persuaded to explore works by Stevenson outside of his Jekyll and Hyde, or maybe even the odd as of yet unread sci fi adventure writer, should a work prove itself convenient for challenge purposes. The dashing fights and dastardly reveals I'm not too impressed by, but as is often the case with my reading tastes, good social commentary is my bread and butter, and I'd be willing to take a chance on a book or two to get more of it. True, there's the whole adage that older works have less of a chance for delivering on such due to being old, but such adages are typically little more than a fancy way of covering one's ass in literature debates. And, even if that proved to be such a case, there'd at least be reading cred. So, I don't see myself reading even a single other work of the adventure genre for the rest of 2021, but in regards to my willingness to snatch certain titles when they present themselves on the shelves of book sales and the like? I'd say the chances of such have certainly improved.

You see, I am not sure that hell hereafter is a certainty, whilst I am quite sure that it can be a certainty in this life; and I desire you to continue to live yet awhile that you may taste something of its bitterness.

I've become quite the Sabatini fan! His writing style is clever and witty, the plots are compelling, and the pacing just right for adventure stories. Fortunately, he was quite prolific so I have much to look forward to.
In Scaramouche, the title character moves, by need, through several different occupations, all set against the backdrop of the French Revolution, unspoken love, and the mystery of his parentage.
Sabatini's female characters are always strong women, outspoken, honorable, and wise. No frail, wilting heroines here.

While a fine time-passing well-written historical romance, this novel failed for me on a couple of counts, from passing true literary muster.

First of all--and perhaps most errant in a swashbuckling romance--is that the revelations of the protagonist's origins and the shape his adventures would take were all telegraphed way too soon to be in any way surprising of fraught with tension or suspense. Thus the whole thing just kind of trundled on in a rather predictable--but not displeasing--way. Still, I expected more artistry in this sector from Sabatini, whose Captain Blood kept me on the edge of my seat throughout.

(This criticism might be exacerbated by the fact that I wanted pirates and got the French Revolution instead and that definitely disappointed me.)

Secondly, the protagonist's cynicism disappointed. I understand why the novel was written this way and its viewpoint--and I'm even sympathetic as an anarchist for a long time critical and even dismissive of democracy myself. But, well, the events of January 6th a couple of years back now, have forced me to re-evaluate the value of democracy. Flawed as it is, oligarchy is still far worse and I now have a new appreciation, not only for democracy as it currently exists (with its many, many flaws), but particularly for those truly brave and fore-thinking rabble rousers who constructed the first modern democracies through struggle and sacrifice. Thus the protagonist and novel's pronouncements regarding the excesses of the French revolution, and its character assassinations of some of the revolution's heroes, just kind of grated on me. This is sad as I pride myself always in seeing both sides of the story, or loving fiction that complicates things uncomfortably, but it grated nonetheless. I mean, yeah, there were probably plenty of goodhearted Nazis who just didn't see where the whole thing would go...but, well, fuck 'em. Their stories just don't interest me. I'm not gonna cry for the noblemen who, after generations of abusing hundreds of human beings, were frogmarched to the guillotine. It is what it is and it was well worth it to strike back at the institutions of nobility and unchecked power.